


Wash Away Your Burdens

by DGCatAniSiri



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 08:11:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19058710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DGCatAniSiri/pseuds/DGCatAniSiri
Summary: Vilkas arrives at Lakeview Manor after marrying the Dragonborn.





	Wash Away Your Burdens

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, one day I'm going to organize my Skyrim fics to be in a proper series in chronological order. But that day is not today.
> 
> So yes, this shares my Dragonborn - Autem - from my previous Skyrim fics ("[The Changing Seasons](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6072670)," "[Steel Your Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7761802)," and "[Light At The End Of The World.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13148466)") Timeline-wise, it slots in somewhere between Light At The End Of The World and Steel Your Heart.
> 
> Maybe my next Skyrim fic should involve the how of them getting together...

The journey from Whiterun and Jorrvaskr to Falkreath was one of the shorter journeys in Skyrim. It was a distance that could be traversed within about a day, even accounting for the odd bandit or bear attack. For a Companion such as Vilkas, such diversions were part of the daily grind more than a genuine threat or concern.

Vilkas had been back to Jorrvaskr as his husband had set about some ‘improvements’ to their new home in Falkreath, Lakeview Manor. They’d only recently married, the ceremony in Riften having been done less than a week prior. Autem had told Vilkas to go back to Jorrvaskr, make his preparations to leave, to start their lives together – while Autem was now the Harbinger of the Companions, he was content to allow Aela to be his proxy. The Companions’ hierarchy was loose as it was, it hurt nothing for the Harbinger to leave the day to day matters to someone else, especially as Falkreath wasn’t that distant from Whiterun, a messenger could be there and back in a day or so if there were business that truly called for the Harbinger to respond to it. 

The others had been quick to celebrate his marriage – the Harbinger and one of the members of the Inner Circle marrying was not something that happened every day, after all. It had been something that was the source of a great deal of celebrating and teasing. Aela had quite a few remarks at his expense, all meant in good nature. She had, in fact, been the one who’d pushed him to go back to his husband as soon as he was.

The path had been clear, and Vilkas made good time – he approached Lakeview just as the sun was setting, allowing him to be clearly visible as he made his way to his new home. Autem had given the manor a deck, where it would be obvious if anyone was approaching the manor. At least if he were out there – Vilkas could see that the deck was empty, as was, it seemed, the surrounding area. 

The manor itself was an impressive feat, especially since Autem had indicated that he’d done most of the work himself. How he’d managed that was something of a mystery to Vilkas as he examined the manor. There were two stories to the manor, an impressive addition for a home built by one man. Vilkas had suspected that he had some magical ability, understanding why Autem would be coy about revealing such a thing, even to the man he loved, given how many Nords in Skyrim viewed magic. That would at least have aided him in the construction.

He was concerned that there were no archer posts, anything to act as a guard point in the event of intruders – Come, love. Shouldn’t you know better? – though, he told himself, there was the simple fact that Autem was still the Dragonborn. And, as a Thane of Falkreath, he had likely gotten a Housecarl who would guard the grounds. Though Vilkas, whose senses were more acute due to his wolf blood, saw and heard no sign of them-

And then a scimitar was held against his throat. “Hold!” came an authoritative voice. 

Well. Maybe guard towers weren’t necessary.

“State your business here,” demanded the owner of the scimitar, her voice harsh, managing to remind Vilkas eerily of Aela. She moved into his line of sight, allowing Vilkas to identify her as a Redguard. It mostly stood out because Vilkas vaguely recalled that Autem had mentioned that his Housecarl here in Falkreath was one – Vilkas assumed this was her.

“I am Vilkas. Husband of the Thane of Falkreath.” He could tack on more of Autem’s titles, but he figured that was the important one for the time being. Besides, he’d married a man, not any of the titles, and, aside from “the Harbinger” and “the Dragonborn,” he really wasn’t keeping track of them. He was Thane in various holds, as if on a quest to acquire the title in them all, and, from what he’d said of the Greybeards and Blades’ talk of what his destiny was as Dragonborn, he likely had caught the eye and attention of higher powers as well, looking to make him take on a role for them, whether he wished or not. There were too many titles for him to even bother trying to sort out which, if any, were the most important.

So far as he cared, the most important was ‘husband.’

The Redguard woman stepped back, the curved sword slipping from his throat. She gave him an examining look, seemingly assessing if she would believe his words. Hopefully, Autem gave her a description of the man he was expecting.

Finally, she sheathed her sword, seeming to have been convinced. “I see. Bandits have been known to frequent this area. I hope you understand my caution.”

Vilkas nodded, appreciating that she made no apologies for protecting the home of her Thane and his husband. “A justifiable approach. Since no harm was done, I see no reason to speak of it again.” He gave her an attempt at a smile, though, knowing himself, it probably looked more like a grimace or a scowl.

She, however, seemed unconcerned about any lack of social graces on his part. “The Thane is in the Manor. I believe he was doing work in the basement.”

So if he just wandered into the basement, he potentially might cause some damage – a place like this, one could easily set up a small forge in the basement without risking it setting fire to the house proper. Vilkas nodded an acknowledgement to her. 

Entering the manor, Vilkas had to admit, he was impressed at the work that had gone into it. It was a beautifully built and furnished home, a place that had the warmth of a true place to settle, become comfortable. Although Vilkas could appreciate the warrior’s attitude of always being ready for battle, that comfort was to be shunned in the name of being ready to fight, he could also appreciate a place to settle, feel safe. 

And, with his own discomfort of the wolf spirit he carried with him, the one that tied him to Hircine’s hunt, he found himself even willing to desire that comfort himself, to find a place where he was settled, safe, secure.

The house just gave Vilkas a sense of calm. It was, above all else, a place that felt like a home. Jorrvaskr was where the Companions gathered, shared stories, mead, and beds, but that place still always seemed like a communal location, something that was always going to have an element of being more a place of gathering than a place where the inhabitants would settle in and call home. Perhaps Kodlak had made the Harbinger’s quarters his own, but for everyone else... 

But here... This place was meant to be a place where people – a select few people – were going to build a life together. There was already a warmth to it, and Vilkas didn’t think it had been standing for more than a month at most. And if Autem had been able to spend even half that time setting about the effort of trying to inhabit the building, instead of just putting it together... Well, Vilkas was doubtful of that opportunity existing. 

He paused in the middle of the main floor of the house as something else sunk in. He had married Autem, and that meant that this was going to be his home as well. And he... he didn’t know what to do with that idea. 

Still turning that idea over in his mind, Vilkas managed to locate the hatch that led down into the basement. He wondered for a moment why Autem hadn’t opted for a more traditional stairway, but he didn’t see that as a mark against the craftsmanship of the home – truly, it was a wonder.

There really was no way to stealthily open a hatch and go down the steps of the ladder, but that was probably a good thing, announcing his presence to his husband. Knowing Autem, he’d likely gotten focused on something and was completely oblivious to all the world. 

Which had probably been the case, but as Vilkas looked around the basement, he heard a hiss of frustration and the sound of something heavy – likely some ingots of metal – striking the ground. It likely meant that he’d gotten popped out of his other bubble already, meaning Vilkas should probably announce himself.

“Autem?” he called.

After a moment, the Breton emerged from a back room, and... Vilkas was somewhat taken aback at seeing him out of his armor. As Companions, they frequently wore their armor at all times, and even at the ceremony in Riften, Autem had worn a full suit of armor (given the Thieves Guild there, plus the various encounters one might have on the road, it had been sensible). Now, however, he’d traded it out for a simple tunic. It was unsurprising in the sense that of course, in the safety of his own home, Autem would trade the heavier armor for something softer but...

It looked good on him.

“Vilkas! I wasn’t expecting you to arrive just yet.” He kicked something out of view, probably part of what he’d been working on and moved to meet his husband. The greeting kiss was something that the Companion savored – he had only been married to Autem for a short while, but... While some had the view that marriage was for the purpose of creating a stable home to raise children, that it was merely important to find someone who would be a good partner in raising the kids and beyond that, things like romance were secondary, Vilkas had been more inclined to see it as finding a companion for your life. It wasn’t a thing for convenience, it was...

Well, the wolf in him wanted to call it mating, but that seemed more animalistic than he was thinking. Regardless. Vilkas hadn’t married just because he wanted to have someone to stay home with the children – they were Companions. They were warriors. Neither would be satisfied with a life spent in even this well-built home. Autem had already spoken of his journeys across the province, and Vilkas did much the same in the service of Companion contracts. This place would be a comfortable place to live, but neither of them would spend all their time here.

Vilkas loved this man. Something he didn’t think he’d ever have with anyone before they’d met. He wanted to build a life with him. And he knew Autem would never make him choose between building that life and his position among the Companions – if nothing else, the Harbinger of the Companions was not likely to tell him to pick one or the other in the first place. 

Autem finally pulled back, smiling at Vilkas as he drank in the sight of having his husband in their home. “I’m glad you’re here... husband.” 

The word created a warmth in Vilkas’s heart as well. “It’s good to be home with you, love.” He glanced back to where Autem had been working. “Making anything world-shattering in there?” Actually, he realized with a moment’s thought, given the various destinies demanded of “the Dragonborn,” it was all too possible that he had been doing just that.

Autem smiled. “Just been trying my hand at ebony smithing. Not going that bad, actually.”

Vilkas might not be a smith, but he knew that ebony was hard to work with – Eorlund Grey-Mane had been known to mutter about the advanced smithing skills on occasion. So he was rightfully impressed at the statement. “The Dragonborn masters many skills, it seems.”

Autem groaned, shaking his head. “Please, for the love of the Divines, don’t you start with that too. I get enough of it everywhere else. Here... Here I just want to be Autem.”

That, Vilkas could more than understand and abide by. “In that case, my love...” Vilkas pulled him back in for another kiss, feeling more than ever that he’d found a home. When finally he pulled back from his husband, a gentle smile played on his lips. “What shall we do with ourselves?”

“Actually... I had a surprise for you, so I’m glad you arrived sooner than expected.”

“Indeed?”

“I finished it late last night, so I haven’t even had a chance to try it out myself...” Autem pulled himself out of Vilkas’s embrace and pulled him towards a nook in the basement, a closed door blocking Vilkas’s view of wherever Autem was taking him.

“What is this surprise, love?”

As an answer, Autem opened the door, revealing a tub in the recessed corner of the room, a small set of steps into it. “I managed to figure out how to tap some of the heat of the forge, so... How does a warm bath sound?”

It sounded marvelous indeed – usually, he just made do with a bucket and some soap. But this was... well, indulgence. Decadence. The kind of thing that was just never done among the utilitarian Companions. Which, now that he was married, in the home he shared – well, would be sharing – with his husband... He was perfectly in his rights to give in to the desire to be indulgent and decadent. To say nothing of how it would be in poor taste to tell his husband he had no intention of utilizing the gift he’d made for them to use.

“It sounds lovely indeed,” Vilkas glanced down, realizing that he was still in his armor – not ebony, of course, but Sky Forge armor wasn’t something that one just casually removed and let lie on the ground. “Though I am a tad... overdressed for a bath right now.”

“The forge is as good a place for your armor as any,” Autem said, motioning to the other room, where the forge sat, now idle.

Indeed, it would serve the purpose as well as any other location – probably the best possible place, where, later – presumably MUCH later – he could investigate it, see if it needed any touch-ups. 

Vilkas was quick with removing it, though, eager to give himself to the indulgence of being with his husband. He knew enough about armor upkeep – a Companion who couldn’t take care of his armor didn’t last long – and this particular set to know how to make his removal of it a simple enough task, leaving him in just his underclothing. He considered simply shedding that here and now, but he should offer Autem the chance to at least see him removing his clothing – the perks of marriage, after all.

He strode back towards the bath, pleased that his husband hadn’t shed his own clothing – he was looking forward to the task himself. 

“You know... I like you like this,” Vilkas said, nuzzling close to Autem, wrapping his arms around him.

“Like what?”

“Like... you are, without your armor. When you don’t seem to be carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Autem sighed as he leaned into the touch of his husband. “It’s nice to feel like there’s a place I can.” He shook his head, probably thinking about the various things that drew his attention – he was Dragonborn, THE Dragonborn, the one who would slay Alduin, the World-Eater, the Harbinger of the Companions, the Thane of various Holds in Skyrim... Divines knew what other titles he’d end up accumulating before Alduin was dealt with. 

So, intent on creating a distraction, Vilkas began to tug on his tunic. “Come. Let’s keep that weight off. And take a few more things off your shoulders...”

It didn’t take long until they were naked, and, though they certainly were interested in one another, they also were ready to indulge in the warm bath that sat beside them. Vilkas decided that at some point, they’d have to go down to the riverbank down behind the manor, engage in some of the same desires that would, no doubt, soon be marking this tub.

But... One indulgence at a time.

The warmth of the bath’s waters couldn’t be understated. Vilkas had grown so used to the cold bucket as his only real source of washing, which meant this felt positively luxurious. He couldn’t help but sigh as he sank into the tub.

Autem’s affectionate smile was audible in his voice. “I take it you approve?”

“Divines... I never thought I’d savor such...”

“Decadence?”

“You said it, not I, but... Yes. It does seem decadent. But...” Vilkas moved so that he was face to face with his husband, leaning his hands on either side of Autem on the rim of the tub. “I am quite glad for it.”

Autem wrapped his arms around Vilkas, pulling him close – so close that their half-hard erections brushed, encouraging them to get harder – and gently pressed his lips to Vilkas’s. “I’m glad you approve, my love.”

The warmth of the water felt cool in the wake of the heat of passion that sparked in Vilkas’s chest. “My love.” His. This man loved him. Had chosen to build and share his life with him. He was a figure destined for history, for myths and legends, for songs told around the drinking table. It was in many ways a strange thing to realize that this was the fate for the man in his arms.

Because while he was the object of Vilkas’s love, he saw only the man, not the mythic figure that would be written of. Just a mortal. A mortal who looked at him so...

“You are so beautiful, love,” Vilkas whispered, a hand caressing Autem’s face. He would give this man all the love he was capable of, and, if at all possible, then some. 

To the world, he would be remembered as a legend. Here, he would be loved as a man.


End file.
